How Cruel, Your Veins Are Full Of

Still Let My Tyrants Know, I Am Not Doomed To Wear Year After Year In Gloom, And Desolate Despair; A Messenger Of Hope Comes Every Night To Me, And Offers For Short Life, Eternal Liberty.

I Have To Remind Myself To Breathe -- Almost To Remind My Heart To Beat!

Alas, For The Effects Of Bad Tea And Bad Temper!

He... Was Attached By Ties Stronger Than Reason Could Break -- Chains, Forged By Habit, Which It Would Be Cruel To Attempt To Loosen.

There Is Not Room For Death, Nor Atom That His Might Could Render Void: Thou - Thou Art Being And Breath, And What Thou Art May Never Be Destroyed.